


Withdrawal

by usedupshiver



Series: Drowning Sorrows [7]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki-centric, M/M, Smut, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:08:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2119659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usedupshiver/pseuds/usedupshiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quitting anything cold turkey is never easy, and that's not even news to Tony. But when Loki walks out of his life, it's a lot worse than anything he would have ever expected.<br/>He has no idea he's not the only one who has a hard time dealing with the situation, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

”You complete _fucking ASSHOLE!_

The heavy glass hit the wall behind Loki's shoulder, turning into a shower of crystal shards and amber droplets. Loki's face didn't so much as twitch. Just kept looking like it was carved out of polished bone.

”Anthony...”

”NO! Don't you dare fucking 'Anthony' me, you piece of shit!” Red was starting to show at the edges of Tony's peripheral vision. ”You know what? I should have just listened to what you told me the first time you came here. 'You should have kept your armour on.' And I fucking _should have_! Every piece and layer of it!”

Loki remained motionless. Back in his leathers, his still shoulders seemed twice as wide as they really were.

”But _no_! You had to come along and pry me open, like a fucking clam. And now you're just _throwing me away_?!” He slammed his fist on the bar, hard enough to hurt. ”What? The meat on the inside's not fucking fresh enough for you? Were you expecting pearls? Did you -”

”STARK!” It was the loudest Tony had ever heard out of Loki. A steel edge ripping through the velvet of his voice.”Be _silent_!”

It was enough to cut him off. Even though he wasn't finished yet. Not by a fucking long shot. But he swallowed down the rest of the words to a guttural growl in his sore throat.

”If you would but listen to what I have to tell you, you would understand that I am not 'throwing you away'. What I do, I do for the both of us.”

”That's just a load of -”

”Enough! I have to do this. Listen to me!”

Tony growled again, but stayed quiet this time.

”I am able to shield myself from searching eyes, Stark. But my magic leaves its own trace. Patterns are forming. I cannot let that happen. I have been coming here far too often, and staying too long. Soon, it will become obvious.”

Loki pulled a deep breath. His brow knitted, and Tony wished that look hadn't felt like someone had just pinched his heart. How the hell was he supposed to stay fucking angry if Loki looked like _that_?

”The only way now, is for me to stay away. Travel. Hide.” Loki raised a hand when he saw Tony's mouth opening again.”No, this is not forever, Stark. But I cannot say for how long. Magic, in this realm... I do not know the exact time it will take for it to fade enough.”

Slowly, Loki came close, put his hands on Tony's sagging shouldes, and turned him around, face to face.

Looking up into those green eyes, Tony really, really tried to remind himself that not long ago, he had wished for Loki to stay away from him. Give him a chance to get back in touch with reality. That hard to remember thing that used to be his life before all of this started, and everything he had thought he knew for sure became worth precisely shit.

It just didn't work.

He didn't want any of that.

You know that bit about being careful what you wish for? Yeah, way too late for that now. He was already getting it. With interest.

He was getting the trickster version of ”it's not you, it's me”.

No, Tony didn't believe a word of the part where Loki said he would be coming back. And even if he did, if there was even a hint of truth in any of that load of crap, that might be centuries from now. When there was nothing left of Tony Stark but bones in a casket, still lit up by an arc reactor.

Maybe Loki would pass by to put flowers on his grave? For old time's sake? Wouldn't that be just fucking sweet?

He was really way too old for this. He should have known better.

It was _Loki_ , for fuck's sake!

At least this time, he was _not_ going to beg on his knees for the guy to stay. No way! Once was more than fucking enough of that kind of messed up shit.

Tony shifted his gaze away from the green eyes, over Loki's black shoulder. ”Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Guess I'll have a chance to catch up on my reading now, at least.”

He was still staring over that shoulder when Loki pulled him to his armoured chest, holding him for a moment, breathing on his hair, as if he had a right to do things like that. 

And then there was a green flare of light, and Tony was alone.

All alone.

Just fabulous.

* * *

It took Tony about fifteen minutes to get drunk.

After less than an hour, he was sitting on the floor by the bar. He was emptying the bottles so fast there was really no need to walk back and forth to the couch. Just walking around was making him sober up too fucking much, anyway. He couldn't have that.

Now, where did he put that glass?

Oh. Right. Still in his hand.

He just couldn't feel his fingers anymore. That was the problem, right there.

He didn't remember much after that.

And when he woke up, he started over again.

Tony lost count of how many times. Pretty quickly, too.

* * *

”Tony?” The voice reached him from really, really far away. Vaguely familiar. Maybe. ”Time for you to wake up now.”

Tony groaned, not opening his eyes. ”Time for you to kiss my ass.”

”I'll... Just... Pass on that offer, actually.” The voice really _was_ familiar. ”Glad you're still here, though.”

”Yeah? Well I'm fucking not.”

With a sigh, that tasted like some unknown creature had eaten something dead and then thrown it back up in his mouth, Tony forced his eyes open. He was flat on his back on the couch. The dim light in the room hurt, but soon he made out a shape leaning over him. Details came slowly. Broad shoulders. Tidy, blond hair. The soft, gentle blue eyes of a boy, looking at him from a face that was the epitome of masculinity.

”Oh, Captain, my Captain.”

”Hi, Tony.” Steve's smile was just as gentle as his eyes. 

Tony couldn't exactly claim to be happy to see the guy, but, well, it was just impossible to dislike Rogers. And Tony sure had given it a good try. He just seemed made of the same stuff as sunshine and puppies. A puppy that could beat the crap out of you without even breaking a sweat, of course, but still. 

”I'd say 'good morning', but well, first of all it's five in the afternoon, and second, I'm guessing it's not really that good.”

”Well spotted. What gave it away?”

”If you really want to know, you look like you've been hit by a train, you smell like a brewery gone bad, and the place is full of empty bottles, but there's only one dirty glass.”

”I didn't really want to know. Actually. But now that ship's sailed.”

”Sorry.” Steve's smile widened just slightly, before his face turned concerned. ”We were all just really worried when you didn't answer any calls. Not even from SHIELD.”

”All?” Tony attempted to lift his head to look around the room. The last thing he needed right now was a whole bunch of mighty heroes staring at him. One was enough, thank you very much. 

The pain pushed him right back down, before he saw anything.

”It's just me, Tony. JARVIS called me. I think he's worried too, you know.”

Another groan. ”The hell, JARVIS? I thought we were friends.”

”Terribly sorry to dissappoint you, sir. But your vital signs -”

”Yeah, yeah, don't hurt yourself. I forgive you.”

Steve cleared his throat softly, and Tony shifted his aching eyes to the honest face above him. 

”I... I saw the broken glass, too. Looked like you put some force behind that throw. Is there something you feel like talking about?”

Flashes passed before Tony's eyes then. Black leather. Dazzling white smiles. Long hands. Green eyes. Lips... Oh, yeah, there sure was 'something'. Or, you know, had been. But did he feel like talking about it?

”Not really, Cap.”

Rogers searched his face, not believing him for a second, before nodding slowly. ”All right. If you're sure. I just -”

”Fuck's sake, Steve!” Tony closed his eyes again. ”Can't a man just be allowed to drown his own fucking sorrows without everyone losing their shit?” He looked up again. ”Just, be a pal and help me up, would you? I seem to have all this hangover on my hands and I need to turn it into something more useful.”

Steve hesitated, frowning at the hand Tony was holding up, then he took a firm grip on it and pulled Tony up, like he was weightless.

Shit. Even that reminded him of Loki. He had gotten used to being handled by hands a lot stronger than they had any right to be.

Standing up was like having Thor whack him on the head with that bloody hammer. He almost fell right down on his knees, but managed to stay upright. Lucky as hell. The pain of landing from a fall might have just split his skull in half.

He could feel Steve's eyes following him as he walked over to the bar and started sorting through the bottles, searching for ones that weren't empty. Yet. Not that many left. He'd have to order more. Tony was just writing a list in his head of what to buy when his hands found the bottle of Absinthe. 

No. He would not fucking drink that. Never.

Oh, all right. Last. 

He would drink that last. When it got really, really bad.

_(And the thought that this wasn't as bad as it was going to get? Yeah, wasn't that just really fucking depressing?)_

Tony treated himself to a clean glass, and poured his next drink.

”Are you sure you don't want to talk?”

Tony drank, put down the almost empty glass again, and didn't look up.

”It's just that... Well, I haven't seen you like this in a long time. Not since Loki.”

Hearing the name made him flinch so hard he almost pushed the glass off the counter. A stab of white hot pain shot through what used to be his brain. Tony closed his eyes, swallowing down the bile rising in his throat.

”Still that bad, huh?”

”Cap... You have no fucking idea.”


	2. Chapter 2

Satisfaction, quite simply, was not in Loki's nature.

What was offered to him was never enough. What he received did not ever fill him all the way up. What he wanted most was always the things he could not have, or should not have. And if he ever did get what he wanted, the only thing he just had to have, was more.

This was why boredom had always been the bane of his existence.

Boredom had led him to the Stark Tower that fateful night, when it was the last place in Midgard he should be, hunted by its Avengers. Boredom had made him come back again. And again. For more of what he had found.

But somewhere in all of it, the boredom had been lost. Left him. It had no longer been what had pulled him back to the Tower. He had stopped running from something, and started moving towards something else. 

Loki had seen a glimpse of what satisfaction could be, and all he wanted now, was more. Only to find that what he wanted, as usual, was exactly what he could not have.

Well, of course he could have stayed. Just waited in Anthony's arms for the moment when Heimdall's golden eyes would have finally made out the traces he had left all over Manhattan. Enterpreted the patterns. Found him. The moment when they would have come for him, Thor in the lead, as always. To carry him back to Asgard and whatever punishment awaited him there.

No, that had never been a possible option. He was no helpless prey, waiting for the hunter. He would run, hide, throw the hounds off his scent. And then he would come back.

Loki always came back. Always.

What he had never expected, was the toll this would take on him. Doing what needed to be done. It should have been simple, but it was not. Even telling Stark that he had to leave had been so much harder than expected. All that rage... 

Loki crossed his arms over his abdomen, folded in on himself, sitting on a shelf of bare rock, staring into swirling snow.

The freezing wind pulling at his hair didn't bother him that much. Never truly had. He never felt cold the way others did. It had been the only physical advantage he had ever had over his so-called-brother. But then, of course, even that strength had simply been a part of his monstrous heritage. Nothing to take any pride in.

It was useful now, though, hiding as far away from where he wanted to be as possible. 

But somehow, it seemed he was not as impervious to the icy winds as he had once been. Something in his chest felt like spreading frost, and he found himself shivering.

Was this what it felt like to be cold? Loki didn't know. He only knew that whatever this was, he hated it.

And yet, this was only the beginning of this trial.

_(And the thought that it would only get worse? Now, was that not a truly horrible thing?)_

Well, enough of this now! He did have to hide, but he did not have to suffer through this. Why punish himself when he had _done nothing wrong_?

Loki got to his feet, lifted his hand in the old, familiar gesture, and let himself be carried away to somewhere warmer. Somewhere he could stay in some comfort, before moving on again. And again. Hiding. Waiting.

So why was the frost inside him still there? Still spreading?

Why was he still cold?

But Loki did what he had to, and waited. Impatient, dissatisfied, and once more bored out of his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

They stopped calling or coming by after a while. Gave up on him. Like people always did. Even Loki. And he wasn't even the giving up kind of guy.

But Tony couldn't really blame them. Shit. He had given up on himself as well.

After a couple of weeks, he stopped drinking. Well, no, not _completely_ of course. That was not an option. But he didn't spend every waking hour with a glass in his hand, working towards passing out again.

He spent those hours in the workshop instead, going back to what he did best. Although, even that seemed to have given up on him. He tinkered until his fingers bled, but nothing would come out the way he wanted it to. So he tore everything apart, and started over again.

JARVIS would attempt to prod him into eating, taking showers, and go to bed. Sometimes he even listened.

The going to bed part, though? Yeah. It never involved much sleeping. At least Tony was really happy he had never shared that bed with Loki. They had always been more of a couch thing. No matter what they had done together, that was were they had done it. The bed was all his.

_(So why the hell did it still feel empty now?)_

And the worst part of it all was, he couldn't even explain to himself why this was happening.

A few months of random visits, some sex, and a make out session. That shit didn't even add up to an actual relationship. It had no business fucking him up like this.

Then it hit him. Just like that. Sitting by his workstation one day. Out of absolutely nowhere.

Loki was the first person who he knew had actually seen him. Seen through the wealth, the show, the bullshit, the armour, and the genius. None of that had impressed Loki enough to distract him from the real things, from seeing him the way he was, in a way Tony hadn't been able to deflect. 

Even the really shitty parts that Tony didn't want to recognize as his.

And he hadn't actually enjoyed being seen. At first. It felt really new and odd and awkward.

This from a man who lived for his place in the spotlight? Yeah, well, that was exactly the point, wasn't it?

The spotlight was an armour just as much as all the rest of it.

Loki just saw what was there, and what it was, and that was really it. No big deal. And Tony liked that. Maybe it was no more than the fact that it took a really messed up asshole to recognize and understand another. Still, it didn't matter. Not really.

He had gotten used to it. And let his guard down.

And now, it was all gone.

Tony leaned forward, rested his forehead on the bench, and felt himself giving up even more than he had thought possible.

_(You might think that he cried, then. Just a bit. But nope, you'd be wrong. Completely fucking wrong. Tony Stark did not fucking cry. Ever. Let's get that straight. Ever.)_

_(Shit.)_

* * *

Weeks of what was supposed to be time passed by, turning into months. Time and, well, life, Tony figured. It was all a void to him, though.

He did start to function again, slowly. Not because anything felt better, really, more like he was getting used to the hurt and started rebuilding his armour around it. Making it extra thick and hard around the sharpest edges.

 _(What do you know? He_ was _starting to form a pearl in there, after all.)_

Tony went through the motions of everyday life, and tried really hard to convince himself he wasn't waiting.

It didn't work.

* * *

03:45 AM.

Tony stared at the red, glowing figures. He was in his bed, naked except for his underwear, curled up around a pillow.

03:46 AM.

Was this too early to get up? Probably. He should at least wait until the sun was up. That would be better.

Tony closed his eyes, tried to let himself drift off, but the inside of his head felt too small. Kept pushing him out. He opened his eyes again,.

04.02 AM.

This was getting silly. Much better to get up, bring some coffee to the workshop and at least pretend to do something useful.

Just when he was thinking about what he would be mixing into this morning's coffee, there came a flare of green light, in the corner by the foot of the bed. Tony was barely fast enough turning his head around to see the light outline a familiar shape, before it faded and everything was darkness again.

”Lights, JARV!” He threw back the cover and sat up.

Loki had been gone for just over three months (not that anyone was counting or anything...), but he looked about three centuries older. Even paler than before, shadows making the green eyes seem sunken, cheekbones looking almost painfully sharp. The armour was worn, his hair tangled.

They just stared at each other. For a long time. Before Tony found his words.

”You look like shit.”

”Why, thank you, Anthony.” The voice was rusty. ”I was thinking something along those lines, actually.”

Yeah, these months hadn't exactly been that kind to Tony either. He knew that. There was a reason he didn't look in the mirror more than he had to. Loki wasn't the only one thinner, more worn, and dark under the eyes.

”Yeah, well, if I'd known I would be having company I would have fixed myself up a bit.”

Again with the mutual stare.

”I had to do it.” Loki almost breathed the words out. Even under the armour his shoulders looked stiff.

Tony hadn't believed a word of it when Loki told him he was leaving and why. It had sounded like complete bullshit. All of it.

He believed it now.

Loki wasn't the kind to put himself through things he didn't have to, or didn't stand to gain anything from. And it was plain just looking at him that he had been through things. Things that had been hard on him. Real hard.

”I guess you did.” 

The wide shoulders sagged as Loki let out a long sigh. Relief? Or just too tired to keep upright, maybe. He looked about ready to drop.

”So. You just stopped by to say hi?”

”Perhaps.” A shrug that looked lead heavy. ”I did not know if I would be allowed more.”

”You wanted more?”

There came a glow in the green eyes then, that almost made him look like his old, sparkly self for a moment. ”I always want more.”

”Well, all right then.”

Tony threw his legs off the bed, and stood up, to take a couple of slow, hesitating steps towards him. It felt like a string was pulling on his arc reactor, drawing him in.

For a moment, Loki just stared. Like he couldn't believe his eyes. Then he sighed again, and opened his arms, inviting Tony in.

Tony didn't hesitate any more then. 

He took the last steps, and then pressed his mostly naked body to that towering black shape, felt the cold of the metal almost burn him, the soft little _”clink”_ where his arc reactor hit it, let his nose fill up with the rich smell of leather. Arms closed around his back, the vambraces even colder, making him hiss. But he didn't say anything about that. 

Worth it.

Then something happened, that had to be one of the most weird and wonderful things in the entire history of things to happen.

Between one heartbeat and the next, cold leather and burning metal turned into bare skin. Pale and smooth and just the right temperature.

Suddenly, his hands touched ribs and the bumps of vertebrae. His thighs were pressed into other thighs, nothing between, as was his chest against this other chest. The arms on his back were pulling him closer, to fill the gap that the armour had left behind.

Tony's heart almost stopped.

Loki had stripped himself of not just the armour. But of _everything_.

”I'm sorry”, he mumbled into the shoulder his face was now resting against, ”but did that just happen? Or am I dreaming? Did I fall asleep without noticing?”

”We are too old to believe in dreams. You told me so yourself.”

”So I did.”

”Then you know the answer.”

The arms around him moved, hands combed into his hair, tilted his head back until their eyes could meet. For a second Tony thought Loki was about to say something else. Then the thin but soft lips were against his.

People say a picture can say more than a thousand words. Well, that may be true and all, but how many words a kiss can say was another thing.

A thousand novels, was Tony's guess. Big ones, too. 

Most of those words were completely foreign to him, but that really didn't matter. He got the message. The overall theme of it.

_(...I have missed you more than I ever thought I would...)_

Tony tried to answer it right back.

When he let Tony's mouth go, Loki rested his forehead against his.

”I am dead on my feet, Anthony. Drained. Would you let me rest here? In your bed?”

”Wouldn't have it any other way, really.”

Tony watched the tall, pale piece of perfection stretch out on his bed, face buried in a pillow. He blinked. A few times. Nope, still there. Had to be real, then.

He lay down next to Loki, pulling the covers over both of them. He told JARVIS to hit the lights, and then curled up to the already limp form beside him. Loki had fallen asleep as soon as he touched the bed.

As sure as he was that he would never be able to sleep now, it was only minutes before Tony was lost to the world as well.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony saw green the first thing when he woke up.

Loki was facing him on the bed, eyes on him. That pale face already seemed less drawn, the cheeks less hollow and the shadows under his eyes had mostly dissipated. Damn, his regeneration was amazing.

”Didn't expect you to still be here, actually.”

”You would have wished me gone?”

”That's not what I said.”

Tony rolled over on his back, staring up into the ceiling.

”Part of me wishes I could make you beg on your knees for my forgiveness for these months of, well, feeling like shit. Part of me realizes that's never going to happen. And then there is this part of me that I'm pretty much pissed off at right now, and that's the part that's already forgiven you.”

He forced out a chuckle.

”I'm just one sorry mess, aren't I?”

There was a long silence. Then Loki's arm moved in, closed around his waist, and pulled. Turning him in the movement until his back was against Loki's chest, and then the arm wandered up to curl around his ribs instead, a hand over his heart, right beside the reactor.

”That would make two of us, at least.” Loki sighed. ”You are not the only one who has felt like shit.”

The word sounded so wrong in his mouth, so different from his own vocabulary, that it made Tony smile. But then the smile faded.

”You're going to have to leave like this again, aren't you?”

A pause.

”I will do anything I can not to. That is the only promise I can make.”

Tony thought about that. ”Sounds reasonable. I'll take it.”

And it was lucky he had time to think that answer through, really, because as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized that Loki's fingers had started wandering again, and found his nipple. A few light touches made it stand at attention. Then Loki pinched it, hard enough to burn.

For some reason, that made a certain quantity of his blood evacuate his head and move south.

What he felt as Loki moved closer told him that this also made two of them.

”You really weren't lying about wanting more.”

”I see no reason to do so.” Loki's voice was softer than usual, as his hand found its way down Tony's body, into his underwear. ”After all, I have another promise to keep.”

”Yeah? And what would that be?” Tony was only half listening, more focused on the hand closing around him.

”You do remember what I told you, right before you ruined my suit. Do you not?” His lips moved against Tony's hair as he spoke.

Oh. That.

_("Just know that one day, it will not be my finger fucking you, Stark.")_

Yeah, there was really no way he could have forgotten about that. No way at all.

”I do.”

”As I told you, I am not incapable of sincerity.”

”Yeah, and some promises are just more likely to be kept, I guess?”

”Oh, yes.”

”Well, in that case...” Tony rolled out of Loki's embrace, to the edge of the bed, leaning out to rummage around in his nightstand. ”You're going to need this.”

Loki studied the small tube he was handed, turning it over in his hands, then opening it, squeezing out a small amount of its clear, almost odorless contents on his index finger. He frowned, puzzled, then rubbed his fingers together experimentally. And the frown dissapeared immediately, to be replaced by a grin that was very wide, and very wicked.

”Well, yes, this I can see will be most useful.” He turned to Tony. ”But I know something else that will not.”

With that, Loki put the tube to the side, and reached out to catch Tony again. Pushing him down on the mattress, turning him over on his stomach, and then slipping his fingers under his underwear, to pull them off and throw them beside the bed.

He then pushed a knee between Tony's legs, spreading them, and placing himself between them. Slowly Loki's hands traveled up the back of his thighs, to his now bare ass.

”Better.” It was actually possible to hear the grin in his voice. Wicked. ”Much better.”

The words and the touch made chills rush up Tony's back. He was sure Loki could feel the goosebumps. His breath was catching in his throat, and nothing had really even happened yet.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Tony grabbed his pillow and held onto it, as if it could save him. From something he didn't really want to be saved from anyway.

He could feel Loki move, reaching for the tube. Heard it opened and closed. His heart nearly stopped.

As the slick fingers pushed at him, attempting to find their way in, Tony tried to relax. He really did. He knew he had to. This was not his first time playing this game, although he had mostly played for the other team. So to speak.

Relaxing was key.

His body, though? Yeah, not really listening.

Excited, fearful arousal was filling every fibre of his muscles, making his thighs and back tight with tension. He just couldn't make it stop. His hands curled into hard fists by his ears, still gripping the pillow.

And of course, as a result, those fingers hurt him more than they should have. More than they intended to, he was sure. But he couldn't make himself say anything to make it stop. He didn't want it to stop. Hell fucking no! Didn't want this stinging burning either, of course, but damn...

The muscles in his lower back were starting to shake.

Then, Loki's fingers left his resisting body. He wanted to say no to that, too. First because Tony didn't want him to stop. And then because (oh shit) maybe he _wasn't_ stopping? Yeah, that was not going to be pretty...

But while Tony was still considering waving the white flag, before he had time to say anything, he felt Loki slowly lay himself down on top of him. Legs over his, hips on his ass, cock pressed against him, chest over his back, chin coming to rest by his left shoulder, and the long hands closing around his upper arms.

And then, for how long Tony had no idea, Loki just stayed exactly like that. A still, warm weight. Not moving. Not speaking. Breathing softly next to Tony's ear. Holding him down with nothing but himself, no force. 

Grounding him.

Tony had never felt anything like it. Or anything like what it did to him.

His heart did a double beat, and then started to slow down. His breathing evened out, deepened. Tension drained out of him like water from a tub. The twitching shakes in his back dissappeared. His legs came to rest against the mattress.

When he was finally just as still and pliant as the body on top of his, he sighed.

Only then did Loki move. He turned his head, let a breath touch Tony's ear, before placing a kiss on the skin behind it. Lifting his body, and once more positioning himself between Tony's legs, Loki let his hands slide all the way down his back, as if testing the muscles; they were still relaxed.

When the slick fingers returned, they found Tony ready for them.

There was no pain this time. Just the unfamiliar but strangely pleasant feeling of being opened up. Of fingers moving. It was slow and steady, the most patient thing he had ever felt from Loki. No, hell, from anyone. 

He knew what it meant when the fingers left him this time, but the tension was still gone. Even though he was groaning into his pillow, grabbing it in his fists, the rest of him was all relaxed. More than it had been in a really long time.

Loki worked his cock into him just as slowly, steadily, patiently. Until his hips were against Tonys ass again. As close as they could get. He leaned down over Tony again then, breathing on his neck.

”If keeping all promises were this sweet, I would never again break one.”

Tony couldn't even form the words to give a response. But he didn't think one was really needed anyway. So he just angled his hip, moving against Loki, and made some hardly human noise of impatient encouragement. Basically the primitive, animal way of saying ”fuck me, or I'll make you sorry you made me wait for it”.

Loki didn't make him wait for it.

It was still kind of slow, but it was also hard and thorough and unrelenting. And when Loki lifted his hips enough to reach and stroke the length of him, hand still slick, Tony was sure this was how he was going to die. His poor body was just going to fill up with too much pleasure to handle, and well, melt or something. Fall to pieces.

When he came, he shouted it all out into the pillow, which was now wet with saliva and sweat.

_(No tears, though. Nope. Absolutely no tears. Tony Stark never fucking cries, remember? Ever.)_

_(Shit...)_

Loki was still on top of him by the time he managed to connect with reality again. Heavy, panting on his shoulder. Seemingly unwilling to move. Ever. That was okay with Tony, though. He had no pressing appointments to keep anyway.

”Yeah, well, you got more.” Tony could only mumble the words, half into the pillow. ”Satisfied?”

There were a few moments of more breathing, not quite so heavy anymore. And then a kiss was pressed to the side of his neck.

”I am.” A slow, soft laugh touched Tony. He could have sworn it sounded surprised. ”I am.”


End file.
